


Sobremesa

by bedeliaswine



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Food Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-06-05 04:39:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6689488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedeliaswine/pseuds/bedeliaswine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal has a request for his beloved phsychiatrist. She accepts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Succulento

**Author's Note:**

> A multi-chapter story my best friend Sara and I wrote, because the lack of Hannidelia fics is shocking.   
> Please bear with us, English is not our first language. Be sure to correct us if you find any mistakes - we would highly appreciate it!

It all began with a touch, a small sense of her perfume, how well it all comes to mind right now after 8 years; the essence is more present than ever. Something so floral, powerful but sweet, rather attaching and almost palpable, what a flavor, what a feeling, the need of touching her is getting harder and harder with every minute, it is anything but a feeling of satisfaction, my body is in pain when I’m not with her, my extremities hurt. I want to be inside her, I want to taste her, I want to complement her soul, I want to be part of her greatness, I want for us to be one and one alone, is this what love is?  
\- Hannibal, what are you thinking about?  
He suddenly smiles, and he doesn’t answer right away. He meditates her, looks at her, and when he is just about to open his mouth, he feels her right across his head, almost touching his left ear but not precisely. She whispers:  
\- You want to eat me again, don’t you?  
\- Is this a question from my psychiatrist?   
He answers without hesitating.   
\- This is a simple question, asked by the woman standing next to you, the woman pretending to be your wife, and it is not a moment to drop a veil between us.   
She walks away, leaving the living room. He takes a moment and follows her to the master bedroom when she slept.  
She leaves the door open expecting him to entry, after he walks in, he closes the door. He continues to follow her to the bathroom. She is standing there face to face to the mirror, writing with burgundy lipstick (his least favorite) the date:  
\- November 21st, 2014  
He, as usual, is behind her, trying to understand the meaning of this. She replies to his thoughts:  
\- I accept your proposal. On this day, I accept for us to become one…  
He looks at her reflection in the mirror cleaning her face from a dropping lock of blonde hair above her blushed cheek. He notices when her skin tightens, her skin touched by goosebumps.  
\- What do you mean?  
\- I’m talking about us, what’s our current status? We are no longer psychiatrist and patient, but I’m not your wife either.  
\- Are you quitting our arrangement? - He turns around and looks at her directly.  
\- Exactly the opposite, I’m making a better deal.  
\- What are your terms, Dr. Du Maurier?   
He’s making a small tender gesture to her right shoulder, when he notices she’s breathing louder and faster. Yes, she is nervous.  
\- I want to be your victim.  
He stops the movement.  
\- I want for us to be one completely. We can no longer maintain boundaries… I know you too well, and I cannot longer forth fill your needs the way we did when we started our relationship. Not even when I decided to come to Florence with you.   
\- Are you suggesting joining me behind the veil?  
She does not reply.  
She takes the misty rose lipstick, his favorite, and she starts applying it slowly to her mouth. Hannibal never leaves her eyes, only briefly, for moments, when he just can’t resist the temptation of wanting those lips on his, of tasting her for once and for all. When she finishes, he is so anxious.   
He did not expect what was about to happen; she kisses the mirror. After a while, they find each other standing face to face to the bathtub, she is wearing a silky grey blouse with a pencil navy blue skirt open right on top of her middle left thigh. Her high heels are nearly part of her, but when she gets them off she is so tiny and fragile.  
She turns around and asks him (with just one look) to unzip the skirt. She clearly doesn’t need any help, but she feels very secure when he does these things for her. She unbuttons her shirt. She is there, in her underwear, but he never ceases to look at her, even when she turns around and removes everything, only remaining her pale skin, her multiple freckles and her intoxicating smell.  
She is laying there in the bathtub and Hannibal has decided to leave. She finds herself thinking about astrology, she once went to a class short after her first degree, and she suddenly remembers something:   
“Situations are written for everyone. Once a person is born, the universe has set into motion their destiny, and there’s only left to build the journey to accomplish it”. It seemed silly there, she couldn’t begin to understand how some starts or planets have a decision to build her life, that’s what she dropped immediately that class, but now, after 20 years, she could understand something: she knew her destiny, that night when she found out Hannibal at her house, after she came back, and he asked her to join him and she said yes; even though she feared him, she was only preparing herself for the moment he decides to finally eat her. Every time she wanted to escape or go away very far she felt something beyond her power pulling her back, and now, she wasn’t sure if maybe a star or a planet had some influence, but she was willing to make that journey to her divine chosen destiny and she needs Hannibal to be a leading part of it. 

She sees a shooting star, she follows the light, she is now part of the universe but everything is dark and in complete silence, she is scared, she doesn’t know where she is. Then a small light begin to appear. It is red, and then she is feeling so wet, that light is becoming blood, for a moment she doubts but she starts getting weaker. She now realizes she is the one who’s bleeding, she is in pain, but she can’t see anything. A smooth voice resounds…  
\- Bedelia! Bedelia! Can you hear me?  
She is now waking up, she opens her eyes and sees a shirtless Hannibal kneel near the bathtub.  
\- Where am I?  
\- You fell asleep, how are you feeling?  
She closes her eyes again and does not reply.  
He lifts her and pulls her under the bed, she is quivering. He is all wet and she is not conscious. Before he looks for some clothes and a blanket, he takes an instant to see the magnificent woman standing at his very eyes. He wants to possess her at this very moment, she is so pale, but also so bright, he sees how she slightly opens her mouth, he can hear her breathing, when she moans he recovers his senses and takes from the closet a pair of matching wool shirt and pants, he hasn’t seen this pajamas before, but they’re so soft he can’t think of anything else.   
By the time he is taking her satin underwear from the drawer, he hears:  
\- What are you doing with those, Hannibal?  
He takes the one in black and seats it at the bottom of the bed, very close to her  
\- Do you want me to get you dressed?  
\- Do you want to do it? You seem very fascinated.  
\- Only if you will let me.  
\- That’s part of the new deal, isn’t it?  
He now has gently put the blanket on her.  
\- Are you cold? - He asks.  
\- Not anymore - She replies with a paused tone.  
She reminds him of a nymph he once dreamt about a long time ago. It wasn’t like the ones that used to be at the paintings, this one was from hell, she had a look with dark violet eyes, Bedelia was looking at him while he was touching her body with that same look, she was right there with him and his very thoughts but she didn’t approved any of them. She respects him deeply, with a sense of anticipation and adoration, with a touch of remoteness and empathy. The nymph also had very thin lips, curving at the very end, her hands were covered in blood while she was naked killing his victim. 

He has his doubts about why he was remembering this, as he is now touching her legs (smooth being the proper word to describe them). Hannibal was getting excited; the precaution he felt with his thoughts combined to the fact of feeling her getting tense at his touch and curving so freely when he passed his fingers to her now tightened nipples was the motivation he needed to accept Bedelia’s early proposal. He was getting erected with the mere thought, his member growing bigger and bigger, especially when he sensed the smell of her shower gel, orchids with maybe some pears and a touch of liquor. It was exquisite.  
She noticed his erection and, as common complement to his thoughts, she spoke.  
\- Is that a yes to my proposal?  
He leaned just above her, almost so close they could breathe the same air, and kissed the commissure of her lips. He feels the nymph moan in satisfaction: they have now closed the deal. He is feeling excited but in the need of taking precautions because he wants this experience to last, this journey has to be perfect. He now realizes she tastes like nothing he’s ever tried before, Bedelia’s flavor nearly as intoxicating as the magnetite produced with her looks; her kisses are almost as cold and deep as her beautiful eyes. After all, she says:  
\- Invite me to join you, to be with you in every step. Sleep with me.  
Without saying anything he lays out in the bed next to her. She is now with her head in his chest listening to his heartbeats, this moment being the closest they have ever been, this being the beginning of the journey to the end of her destiny.


	2. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedelia reconsiders her position as Hannibal's companion as Hannibal begins to understand the complexity of his relationship with her.

The bed was cold this evening, she was feeling the metal of it by every single breath she took. She was having a dream, a curious one. It was dark, and Bedelia was alone, she wanted something, someone, and someone she didn’t had. The desire running up and down her body was irresistible. She had a need; she has to satisfy this need. She was breathing loudly, she was anxious, she wanted someone to be hard on her, to be rough, someone to warm her with the vibrations of an infinity pleasure, to keep her sane, to give her an absolute and final orgasm.  
Suddenly she was hot, her blood was boiling with anticipation, and the room smelled like wine, cigarettes and sweat. The sheets covering her body were no longer needed; she could only think about the red light vibrating all over her blue ocean eyes, she was intoxicated by a strong desire, an animal, a feline one, that she will only satisfied by doing one thing. She begins running one of her hands down her left breast; she had the need to release it. She couldn't be gentle, so the smooth of her skin was covered with shivers; the excitation and the anticipation were getting her nipple hard, and squeezing it, she was now moaning into the dark and cold room.  
Where is Hannibal?  
The other hand felt her stomach, down to the exquisite perfection of her body, her pale skin was now blushed, she was now tender, sensing the move, the red light was now purple and the smell was changing into a softer and floral one, orchids and tulips. The charming touch was now rusty, wet, she felt herself palpating down there, her clit was ready. First one finger, then two, her other hand never leaving her breast, rough and tender, this rhythm was her basic form of staying alive.  
Then it was all faster, her right leg on top of her left, this was a proof of artificial fire, her back lifts up to the sky, her toes were making this brutal form of an arc, her body was talking, she was screaming in silence, her release was now close, when everything was full of lights, with the smell of vanilla and chocolate the atmosphere was sticky and sweet. She couldn’t handle it.  
When she woke up, she felt a small tear falling down her cheek, her face was hot, she had her finger nails (she wants to believe they were hers) marked all over her breast and she was so wet she could smell her desire right up like a school girl in her first year in campus. Bedelia felt so embarrassed of herself being so ordinary, so simple, so basic, when she finally realized she was alone in the middle of the bed. Where did Hannibal go? It was 3:03 am.  
This new arrangement, her idea, ignited a wave of loneliness and rejection for herself, something she had never expected. This new way of losing all of her moral beliefs was now costing her her sanity, her mind and everything she was. Now empathy and satisfying desires were her way of living. If this was going to be the deal, she needed to be filled up. She cannot longer feel that way.

\--

A person's taste is different every time. We are all different, but cut at the minimal form, we’re all the same. He could almost compare killing someone with shooting a gun, and sometimes tasting someone with making love to him or her, whichever was the case.  
In his dreams, Hannibal was always an animal, most of the times he was a deer or a wolf, he felt excited when he was a wolf and sensed attacking someone or something and destroyed lives with his own teeth, those were good dreams, besides the others when he was just hunted to death and he watched himself die, right there.  
Differently this time he was in a forest, it was dark and moist, then it began to rain, he was so cold when he realized he was naked, he walked and walked, and all he could see were trees, tall, very tall trees. He sat in one of them and covered himself with his arms maintaining a fetal position. He was tired, and so cold. Out of the sudden he heard soft music, he closed his eyes and was filled up completely by the sound, and it was Debussy’s Clair de lune. The piano made him feel warm, he felt covered by two, very petite arms, they were forgiving, he felt them crossed all over his cold body, he was now in peace. He felt a voice whispering in his right ear.  
\- ti voglio, ho bisogno di te, siamo uno.  
I care for you, I need you, let’s be one  
Then his mouth was filled with another tongue, one with a flavor he had never tasted before, he couldn’t describe, but it was better than a good vintage wine, it was almost indescribable sweet, gentle, but strong and mighty. Some small, soft, warm fingers began to travel down to his happy path, the thumb covered the tip, and then a hand completely felt his maleness.  
\- Fill me up completely Hannibal  
This was now a voice he knew, it was a voice that after so many years had helped him out, listened to him carefully, while looking very powerful with those penetrating deep blue eyes. The up and down movement on his member was now quicker, he was harder than the rock behind his feet, he was now close. And out of nowhere a cold breeze returns and the music stops.  
He opens his eyes and finds himself sleeping face to face with his psychiatrist, they’re sharing the same air, he; breathing loudly, she; resting quietly and yet so beautiful. The words through his ear, the sensation in his mouth, the idea of having her completely was immense and pure, now clear to him. She was now his, to satisfy his every desire, the multiple sensations were getting him so hard, he was now reaching Bedelia’s pelvis with his member. He had to think, his mind was no longer clear, he needed space, he wasn’t used to the bed support of a woman, a man or anybody.  
He left the bed and went to his office while he contemplated the beautiful night among them. Venezia, was one of his dream places, it was perfect, and he will now satisfy his desires one by one, making everything impeccable and aesthetically divine. It was 2:47 am, and he had more energy than usual. He was a little bit cold, so he decided to do a small routine.

\--

3:09 am, Bedelia is now recovering her senses; the feeling of her dreams had left her very impatient. She needs him, she needs Hannibal, but where is he? After a while she decides to look out for him, she gets up, her legs are shaking, she is now braless and anxious. She checks the bathroom, he clearly isn’t there, then the kitchen, he’s not there either, in there she feels so humiliated by the fact she wants him so badly. And, like a small reflex, she takes a bottle of wine and pours herself a full glass of red and with a single sip; she drinks half of the glass. She then decides to continue her pursuit; she gets a refill carrying on with a full drink in her right hand.  
Standing in the hallway she hears something. It is like a moan, but it is so deep, she doesn't know exactly what it is, after a while she hears it again, this time they’re followed by a quick breathing. It’s Hannibal.  
She realized her glass is now almost empty because she’s beginning to feel a small tingle around her arms and this funny sensation in her stomach. She walks down the hallway and she opens Hannibal’s office door. At first she didn’t see anybody, but after checking the second time, she notices him in the floor doing a little of chest flexion. He didn’t see her. He finishes, he turns around, lifts his face and his brown eyes meet her.  
Bedelia sees him, he’s in his plaid pants, down to his hips, and she can almost see that vibrant vein at the beginning of his happy place. He is shirtless, sweated, his hair is all messy and he has that particular look. That look when he’s cooking something, when he’s eating something, when he’s doing something he likes. He looks at her with that look, she enters the room and closes the door behind her.  
He sees her getting blush, he looks at her and instantly he remembers the voice in his dreams, he can see how her nipples are getting hard as he approaches closer and closer. They’re now standing face to face. He wants her, and she wants him too, but they're still too polite to each other, so he walks towards her and says:  
\- Good evening Doctor, is something wrong with your sleep?  
She looks at him carefully and answers:  
\- Yes Hannibal, the fact you're not with me.  
\- Is that a problem for you, Doctor Du Maurier? Loneliness?  
\- Only when the thing I require is enjoyable with two people, and two people are alone together.  
He takes a pause from looking at her, and smiles.  
\- Are you making a proposal?  
She waits until she gets his attention back again and completely, when she replies coldly.   
\- I wasn't aware you did not understand our agreement.  
He walks closer and he puts a hand on her cheek.  
\- What do you want, Delia? - Saying her short name like a soft whisper.  
\- I want you, Hannibal.  
\- How? - He says roughly.  
After a moment, she didn’t reply, she only looks at him with a small prayer hidden in her eyes.  
He begins moving his hand, slowly. When he reaches her throat, he opens it and leaves it there. The feeling of her breathing going harder and faster makes him go hard.  
\- Tell me, want do you want, Doctor? - This was a demanding tone.  
\- I want to be yours.  
He's now squeezing her neck, each second a bit harder.  
She is quivering. She is trying to step back.  
He looks at her firmly, and even though he sees her suffering he never leaves her throat.  
\- Are you afraid of me?  
She doesn't move.  
She looks at him, and after a cold look she faces him, and gives him this redemption look, she throws herself at him and he releases her. She was now in the floor on her knees trying to catch her breath, she couldn't speak, but she managed to say:  
\- "Fear is now a feeling I don't own anymore".  
He kneels with her and touches jet lips with his own. The energy is rising again, dawn is beginning, and with it this passion, this need and this desire. Their mouths never open, they remain touching and breathing into each other’s mouth and sharing the same air. He takes her like a small child back again to the bed. She's now resting her head on his left shoulder.  
When they arrive back again to the bed, he puts her like a petite doll on his side, then he sits beside her and kisses her hard, she opens her mouth to feel the sensation of the man who's going to eat her. He finally tasted her, she could also taste him. They were so refined all this time they forgot about their true passion, they have been feeling this for a very long time, he needs her, she needs him, their tongues get untied like a cloud it's broken by a thunder, they're now a vivid flame, she bites him first, he doesn't care. She also breaks the kiss.  
He lets her and goes to the kitchen to found something hot for her throat. He could only think of bourbon. He takes two glasses and the bottle and runs to the bedroom.  
He finds her just as he left her but with her eyes closed. He calls her:  
\- Delia? Delia? - The second time, harder.  
She opens her eyes. This light blue, almost grey look was different, and then he remembered the flavor of his mouth, the one in the dream, now palpitating amongst his tongue and senses. It was like his favorite candy when he was a boy, combined with the evening breeze of the beach in July, with the sense of the first woman he had ever eaten, her sister.  
When she gave him that look he understood something, but he couldn't explain it.  
He poured two glasses for both of them as he laid down near her and took her hand, putting it on his chest.   
They both felt asleep after the second drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sara and I are working as hard as we can to upload the chapters quickly. We've been writing some drafts for chapter three, and we'll hopefully have it before this week ends.   
> Again, thanks for reading! Please leave your comments and corrections below, English is not our first language :)


	3. Ecstasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Bedelia share an unexpected treat.  
> If you can, please listen to Salomé by Peter Doherty, the chapter was inspired by it.

I heard the sound of calm, peace and silence. I’m watching myself play in the pier of the family lake. I believe I must be 6 years old, my golden hair is above my hips falling in fine curls, and my face is blushed by the heat. I’m at the edge of it. Suddenly, I turn to face what’s behind me; I’m feeling fear running through my veins. It’s a wolf, and it’s coming for me, but I can’t stop him, I’m too far away, so I watch myself get in to the water. I’m now close, I feel like I’m drowning, and I’m hearing screams, I’m now immersed in the cold water, I can’t find myself, the girl is gone, young Bedelia is now gone.   
After I calm down, it’s me now who’s in the cold water, by the time my breath is paused I found myself floating there in the immensity of the water, face to face with the night, feeling its silence, but something is out there and I can feel it coming, what is it? I can’t see anything but something shows up, it’s now standing in the dock, it’s the wolf again. I can see the eyes of the creature, it’s looking at me firmly, out of the sudden I’m now in the skin of the wolf, I can sense everything out there in the night, even me, specially me, floating in the middle of the lake, that white pale woman, little woman, with her blonde platinum hair, her red lips nearly apart, the roundness of her breasts getting in and out of the water with the rhythm of her breathing, her long legs, followed by her few but enough pubic hair. I’m my own desire, I can feel the senses of the wolf but still can’t control him, and the last thing I remember is the sense of my perfume.  
It’s 4:52 am, Hannibal is sleep by my side, and I’m running my hands up and down my throat, feeling my carotid’s beat at the same palpate as his breathing. It doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s a natural feeling of sensibility after what he did to me but I can’t blame him. I now know what he wants.  
In the morning, after Hannibal has left all I can think of is the sensation of my own desire. Once, a while ago, I heard something about married couples who had simultaneous dreams, each of them dreamt almost the same thing, or in a few cases the dream connected. The University doing the study asked me to do a paper with my medical opinion, I let the facts lead the way and wrote a report based only over people’s testimonies, even though, I thought it was a coincidence based on past conversations before bed or shared situations. Now, I can barely understand if the dream was Hannibal’s or it was mine, I was planning to discuss it over dinner, but first I needed to do something…  
\--   
\- Tre bottiglie di Bâtard-Montrachet, una dozzina di lumache fresche e tartufi bianchi, per favore.  
(Three bottles of Bâtard-Montrachet, a dozen of fresh escargot and white truffles please) 

\--

8:06 pm

Hannibal is now at home again, well, this hotel room I call home. One bottle is now empty and the other one is getting started, so I’m losing every inhibition possible. He gets directly into his office, puts the suitcase on the desk, removes his jacket, then the vest, both now are resting in the chair. I’m not seeing him but I know his moves by memory, so he’ll go now to the kitchen. In the meantime, I should probably be with him in there or setting the table, at the moment I’m not feeling pretentious enough to do that sort of things.

I’m resting in the large sofa in front of the fire reading a book, this time I decided to wear something comfortable; it’s a black dress tied up to the neck with the back uncovered, it fell down to at least four fingers up to the knees. I’m bra-less, so I’m by the fire to warm myself. I can hear from here every move he does in the kitchen. I now put some music on, and I can begin to smell something appealing to the senses, as usual, followed by him setting up the table, he’s so relaxed, he doesn’t need me for this. When he finishes I get my usual spot across each other at the eight people table there is. I eat neatly, he does too. Once in a while I can feel he’s looking at me, but I’m just pretending it doesn’t matter. The tension it’s beginning to build, I’m also feeling drunk enough, with the last bite of I don’t want to know what this is but it looks barely cooked and pink with a sweet flavor, I end up my fifth, or sixth glass of wine that was on the table. Hannibal’s now getting up; he’s coming to my spot.

His perfume, that sweet masculine smell, united with essences from his cooking and a bit of strong alcohol dizzies me, and he’s now by my side. I can also feel his sweat. I get up and he retrieves the chair behind me, always being a gentleman. I pretend to have a small yawn. 

\- I guess the dinner was too exaggerated for an evening only for the both of us.  
He said while touching his right arm stopping me from leaving.

\- Only if you get the company of one, a half bottle of wine and the heat I’m feeling.  
I reply removing softly my arm from his touch. 

Suddenly I need a bath, I need to get my senses back. I’m closing the bedroom’s door, after I realized Hannibal is heading to the office. I choose a long silky black robe and I put it behind the bathroom door.

Thank God I put a bottle of bourbon in the shelter bellow the sink, I need this. 

Hmmm the water is so warm; the new lavender gel smells delicious. The drink is now perfect; I can hear the melody in my heart, the melody of old songs. They’re ringing in my head, those albums I left behind in my house, those memories. I remember my front door flowers growing in the spring: tulips. The smell brings back until my bedroom, and I loved having them in the table next to my bed side, the right one. Waking up every morning smelling them it’s a delightful memory that’s now gone. 

I feel a tear running through my left cheek.

The door is now opening. 

I open my eyes to the surprise of seeing no one in front of me. What?

\- Are you losing your senses, Dr. Du Maurier? That’s not a good symptom.  
\- They’re not the only thing I’ve lost Hannibal.   
\- Can we share a drink?   
He asked.  
I can now listen to his voice going so peaceful.   
\- You can always have one.   
He gets my glass and drink half of it, which was already served.

\- What’s going on Hannibal?  
He’s not replying.  
He’s now taking his shirt off, a button at a time. He now drops it to the floor, near the door. He sees me. I remember the wolf attacking little Bedelia. 

\- Are you afraid of being seen, Hannibal?  
\- I lacked emotions, but not anymore. I wish you lacked them too.   
I can feel him so close; I can’t leave his eyes, even when he’s naked and standing beside me in the bathtub.  
\- Why do you say that?  
\- You created a vision of me and the person suit. You refer to me being behind the veil. Now there’s no veil, there’s no suit. What about your boundaries, doctor?  
He’s doing me a proposal I already answered. Why is he doing this to me?  
I see him getting in front of me in the tub. The water is splashing on the floor. We’re face to face.  
I love you Hannibal, but don’t make me questions I can’t even answer to myself. 

He sees me, as if he knew what I was thinking, he knows my limits, my thoughts, my fears. The closeness between us is surreal, we’re here and now, naked and open with each other. The heat among us it’s unbearable. 

I hadn’t realized my legs were against my breasts as if I were closing to the feeling; I wasn’t letting my body to be free. He put his hands on top of them rubbing my nipples, giving me a sweet look, making his right hand caress my throat, he can feel how my heartbeat is getting faster, which is followed by a quick touch to my left cheek, the one that just a minute ago held a tear, he could feel my pain. We got our faces together, joining each other’s foreheads, and I can’t stop my tears from falling. 

I can see how his tongue is now licking slowly the falling of my first tear, so I let myself carry on to the feeling. He licks the bottom of them one by one. With the silence of the water sounding and our breaths rising, we kiss.

His flavor is salty, but strong. I can sense the bourbon, the sweet flavor from the dinner and something else, what is it? It’s like bitter cocoa with mint, absolutely delicious but it feels dangerous. He bites my tongue in the middle of the dance. OUCH. I like it. I’m now lost.

Two ballerinas up and down, point, dancing and floating in the air, that’s how our tongues are getting their power. Hannibal’s lips are exquisite. 

I can feel how my legs are getting weaker and now are side to side of him. My hands pass from the top of his hair to around his back I’m trying to catch him, I don’t want to let go. He breaks the kiss, I don’t want to open my eyes. The feeling is too painful. 

 

\- Almost entirely. I whisper.

I can feel the water getting cold, my head is now covered by it. The bathtub is lighter. He’s now gone. 

While I’m still here alone, with the need and feeling of him completely in my mouth, I’m now sure of what’s going next. The guts are from my side. After all; does he knows my truly desires?

\--  
9:03 am   
\- Tre bottiglie di Bâtard-Montrachet, una dozzina di lumache fresche e tartufi bianchi, per favore.  
(Three bottles of Bâtard-Montrachet, a dozen of fresh escargot and white truffles please) 

Hannibal receives a letter from the doorman of their apartment. He knows it’s from her. But after last night it’s now tempting to found out what’s the truth about Dr. Du Maurier’s boundaries…  
He reads it slowly, he loves her handwriting, and he could tell so much by looking at it. Patience was her top quality, supremacy the second one. A refined person but also submissive by her emotions, lacking despair and occasionally empathic.   
-A wise man once said: “human motivation can be more than lucid greed”. Well by boundaries are my own desires, as you well know me Hannibal, my blind optimism is followed by the loss of my senses. Complete this morality you have left. Come at meet me in the beginning of my end, at 9:00 o clock at our apartment. Meet me in there, your place, the kitchen.   
B.  
He’s now so tense and anxious. He doesn’t like to be in hiatus. He’s now laughing at the reference of his own words on the letter. But there are clues of her disposition.   
Desires…  
His day at the office is common as usual, followed by some lectures of new works, visits from colleagues, inspections of old valuable objects and Bedelia’s taste in his mouth. And of course the painful reminded of the slowly past of time every 5 minutes he checked his watch. 

8:55 pm  
He’s standing at the entrance door of the apartment, he can’t hear anything but music playing, opera he thinks at first, Madame Butterfly, he’s now sure. He has to be on time, precisely on time.   
9:00 pm (he notice as the clockwise change its position)  
He opens the door, the smell it’s a bit different of what he expected to be but flowers ignite his senses up. He leaves his suitcase, his jacket and the vest in the office as usual and opens his first button letting it show a small amount of chest hair. He travels to the kitchen fast enough, but not crossing the limits of desperation.   
The moment he crossed the door the image seen was not the one he was ready for. Madame Butterfly began to feel appropriate.   
7:55 pm  
Bedelia has now everything read. She had managed to convince, with only one look, the doorman to help her. After everything had been cut, sliced, marinated and served she has one more thing to do before she has to call him to do the, let’s say, final touches.   
One stroke, two stroke, to her left vein. The syringe is spilling three drops, and it’s now ready. Her breathing it’s now playing alone with Pete Doherty’s Salomé.   
\--  
Bedelia is resting on the marble table of the kitchen, head across the stove, toes in front of the refrigerator. But wait…   
She’s naked too, well almost entirely, where can he begin? Her face is covered by one lock of almost white hair resting over the commissure of her nearly parted lips. He can detail how her bottom one is quivering, below the little hole forming between her collarbones. He’s seeing how, even though she’s resting peacefully with her eyes closed, arms at each side of her body and feet forming a V, she’s breathing too fast, because she’s anxious too.  
Her breasts are wide open and perfectly falling, but he can see how her nipples are covered by what it seems to be a yellow cherry. Her nipples point to her abdomen where small pieces of mangoes left little steps onto her ‘paradis perdus’, her almost unseen pubic hair is wild and savage to his senses, at the end, between her thighs is a half passion fruit, its skin beautifully glowing on her thighs. Bedelia set herself like a perfect dish, waiting for him.   
He stumbles, and she opens her eyes, she can barely look at him without feeling ashamed. She manages to say:  
\- Bon appetite.  
She closes her eyes again.   
He steps closer to her, he touches her leg going up and down, softly and sensing her skin. He can see alongside her head there’s a bowl of escargots in one side and an open dragon fruit on the other. He eats one escargot and notices right away she followed his recipe, it being practically the same.   
He puts one in her mouth and she suddenly opens her eyes, letting her tongue out while sucking the now cooked creature inside her mouth. She tastes it, and very slowly swallows it.  
He needs some alcohol.  
He opens the fridge and there it is, Bâtard-Montrachet, cold, as she likes it. He serves it on one glass, taking one big sip, and then he goes to her right nipple and takes a yellow cherry, sticking it out of his mouth, followed by another sip of wine, and to her surprise, he’s now on her mouth. Bedelia opens it instinctively, while her entire body is shivering with anticipation; she’s losing her boundaries by finally accepting the faith she chose for her, satisfying what her desires required.   
The wine is spilling over her mouth because Hannibal drops it in while he bites the cherry. It’s juicy, thick and creamy. She’s trying to swallow it but the kiss is getting passionate, and she’s getting wet, and it’s getting perfect for her plans tonight.   
Hannibal decides to join her (she’s demanding it by her looks, a sacrifice from him too). He unbuttons his shirt and removes his pants and then his boxers. She can see how he’s rising with her as well. The greeting of his member is pure and simplifies any words ever or never spoken in that direction.   
He grabs the passion fruit between her thighs, touching briefly her own passion. Its warm there, and then he throws it away from her pelvis to her aperture, she feels a cramp while a small movement of her leg reacts to the feeling of need burning up her.   
He takes the spoon ahead and takes a piece of dragon fruit. It’s sweet, so sweet, and while he tastes it he passes his tongue over her collarbones, neck, behind her ear, and every sensitive spot covered in intense sweat. She’s demanding him, he grabs the glass of wine and drinks. Afterwards he takes a big sip again and biting a piece of mango he drops it, from the distance, and to her entire breasts. It’s cold so her breathing is now even more exalted, he quickly lick every drop, taking in last the other cherry, this time distracted by her hard nipples. One and two perfect creations of God, they were true masterpieces, soft but hard, pink but pale, round and immense for the size of his hands. On other terms, pointing on the right and exact direction. Patiently taking one piece of mango, this exotic fruit, he licks her belly, until he begins to sense also the acid of the passion fruit, he’s now in the exact spot.  
The passion fruit it’s not exactly a fruit to be eaten without sugar, even though it’s delicious in its natural shape, it’s no recommendable to eat it like that. So Hannibal decided to combine with something else, sweet, yes of course, why not?  
He first smells her purity down there; it is passion and fire, an absolute feminine spot. He places his hands near her hipbones, she’s now awake enough to feel and take the full sensation of forth filling not only her desires but his as well. She looks deeply at him while grabbing an escargot and putting it slowly on her tongue, getting it inside her mouth and licking her lips, then swallowing it. He’s now ready, but he places the tip of his tongue inside. It’s really warm. Then it’s followed by his full tongue, at first he’s adjusting to the sensation and flavors, Bedelia is sweet, but also bitter, with the enough passion of the acid showing off a spectacle of low and high notes.   
His tongue is sensing her walls, and by making this soft steps, he builds up her orgasm, he can feel her clit palpitating down there, and like a maestro plays the concerto, he’s inspired to ask for more and more. Bedelia is beginning to loose herself again, but first she puts her hands on top of his and form a united arch with the both of them.   
He stops.  
The anxiousness and apprehension of her sense drives her crazy. Hannibal takes a glass of Bâtard-Montrachet, but this time he opens the fridge again to get out a white truffle, he takes a piece, a tiny one, and puts inside of her, she looks at him in despair and surprise. He gets back in but this time he bites one time, then he drops wine, he licks up and down. Her walls are ready now; the warmness inside her and her pre-liquid is showing off. Bedelia is now moaning, her delight expanding, he bites again, and the senses combined are deathly, Hannibal could only think about one more flavor to be complete. He stops again, rising his face and seeing Bedelia.  
\- Bedelia, are you with me?  
\- Yes Hannibal… she can only manage to say in sobs.  
\- Can you stand up?  
\- I can try…  
She doesn’t have any idea of what his plans were going to be, but FUCK! She was waiting and it seemed like she was never going to finish. Come on Hannibal!  
He grabs her and puts her in front of him, she rests her hands in his chest, she can’t stand up, not like this, not in front of him, not about to have the climax she was expecting but was stopped. She’s closing her eyes.  
\- Bedelia, listen to me. Do you want me?  
\- Like the sheep loves the Shepard dog.  
\- Do you trust me?  
\- In the same way Hannibal. Please!  
She’s demanding again, saying this as a prayer, begging. This needed to end, to stop now.  
Hannibal takes her hand, while he’s now resting on the table as he suddenly grabs her, putting her face over his member, with her ass on top of his head and her head resting on his pelvis.   
What?  
The next thing he does is reclaim again the concerto as his, by inserting one finger to stimulate her inside. She’s desperate, so she grabs his member, his hard-rock member, and decides to play this dirty game of power in a new different perspective.   
Tongue and tip, one hand grabbing his length, while he’s now inside of her again is all what Bedelia thinks about. This is a quick game, and there are no rules, except whoever loses their senses first is going to end the game. Bedelia opens her mouth to give an entrance to his maleness. Hannibal’s dick is long and perpetual, and she sucks hard every time he kneads her clit, she can feel how his balls are filling up, and she need to hurry up because she’s almost losing her temper, he wants to see her coming first but she’s playing dirty, she’s now giving small bites to the tip while sucking into her throat and doing some manual work, but she’s beginning to come now. He’s now so close, his orgasm is in the cusp, and she stops. His balls are in a painful desire, he grabs her clit with his teeth and she loses herself first, but before she could end up screaming she takes her last breast giving him the suck of heaven and angels. And on a perfect symphony, he came too, both of them screaming in ecstasy.  
Ecstasy was the way they connected and were one, her senses depend on him, and his demands hers as well, and the empathy and feeling empowered to accomplish everything without any boundaries, veil of person suit.   
Hannibal wakes up first. Bedelia it’s not responding, he can see in the position he’s at the point of entrance thought her vein. He now knows what happened. He takes her, both of them naked, and goes to bed. When she’s resting, her face up, and his dream is now complete, a last sip of glass, and that drop of his desire, his own semen, resting in the commissure of her lips. He steals from her one last kiss of the night, when she opens her eyes and lets him in, the kiss sharing an ultimate passion. The senses on his mouth spark as he feels his own cum on his lips, the perfect and most desirable thing in the world.  
Bedelia grabs his head, saying to him:  
\- The sense of warming on my bones, that’s you.   
She kissed him deeply, while he embraces his own flavor, starving, still faithful to his desire. She falls asleep in his lips. This nymph of dead, this refined Madame Butterfly at his feet is trying to survive; fighting with her own demons, him being the master with his mouth, with his own taste, the principal desire being him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late post! Sara had already written the chapter but my lazy ass hadn't corrected + posted it. I promise I'll do my homework in time!

**Author's Note:**

> "Sobremesa" is the spanish word for a period of time after eating a meal where you continue sitting around the table, something like dessert. Hannibal's fascination for food can only be equal to two things: Will's easy-to-manipulate mind and Bedelia's taste, which he may call "succulento", the italian word for succulent.
> 
> We really hope you enjoy our story! You can find us at:  
> Me (Dari): @bedeliaswine on Twitter  
> Sara: @3BlondeAmbition on Twitter


End file.
